A SCENE FROM MY STORY

As Davis arrived at the scene, he felt something was very wrong about all of this. He thought about taking his time but the police scanner said there was a robbery in progress and that several officers were hurt or dead. He decided to rush in, which is never the smart thing to do but he did it out of hope. Hope that in saving some cops would put him in the favor of the city.

He swept in and everything was dark, silent. Not a good sign. He looked around and then was greeted by a hard hit to the back of his head. He didn’t really feel it but it echoed through his body. He fell and tried to climb up. Above him was the biggest, meatiest man he’d seen in his life. He was grabbed by a big fist and thrown into some shelves and fell back again.

“This is a message. You don’t come to this town and fuck with the order.”

Davis scrambled to climb to his feet but his body didn’t want any of it. The man kicked him and took a bat and hit him in the back again and again. He stopped and pulled out a cigar and lit it. He turned his back and began smirking. A job well done he thought to himself.

Davis placed his hands hard against the cold broken floor below him and began climbing up. The horror for him was that he couldn’t feel anything. He just could see the blood all over the place. His blood. He took a slow breath and climbed up silently. He knew he probably had some broken bones and that they would need to be mended very soon.

The man went outside and there began a downpour and some distant thunder. He put out his cigar, cursing to the sky and stomping away. Davis wasn’t far behind. The man stopped moving and could hear footsteps and turned to see Davis covered in blood, cheek torn open and arm unhinged.

“What does it take to put it through your head boy? They don’t want me to kill ya, just wanted a little roughing up. Get outta ‘ere.”

Davis let out a knowing sigh and continued walking toward the man. The anger in his eyes, the glare of pure hatred. He looked more beast than man.